No matter short, No matter tall
by Jay-Chan
Summary: The romantic adventures and times of a very strange hobbit he wore boots, for heaven's sake and his elf maiden. An odd pair, surely, but what is height to love?


Elves and Hobbits were rare to speak to one another, and when they did, it was usually of some dire importance. Hobbits of the Shire rarely even heard of Elven business, and if any hobbits interacted with elves, it was heard of all over The Shire, scoffed at by most members of the countryside. With such information in mind, it's no wonder at all why the entirety of the hobbit-land was almost up in arms when they found out a male hobbit and a female elf had begun a relationship that stretched well beyond average friendship. One would say it was even a physical relationship, although many could not properly figure in their minds how the differing heights would work in such a relationship, but that didn't stop their prying eyes and ears from trying to find out.

"Have you heard of that strange couple?" was a common gossip whispered up the hills.  
"You mean the elf and the hobbit?"  
"I wonder who it is?"  
"I hear that it's Jules."  
"You mean the hobbit that wears _boots?_"

* * *

Jules was strange, to say the least. He was short, even for a hobbit. A hobbit in his tweens, he stood barely 2'7''. Stranger, his black hair was streaked with strips of white, running from his bangs, back through his wavy locks. It was uncommon for a hobbit to have hair color aside from browns and dark blondes, and even more uncommon for a hobbit's hair to be two distinct colors it naturally was not. Strangest of all, especially for a hobbit, was he wore boots. Hobbits' feet were, unlike men's feet, furry and thick soled, giving them no need for shoes of any kind. Jules, however, always wore brown boots, with red streaks running along the toes. It was rumored they were shoes made by his elvish maiden, although no one really did find out about it. Some people wondered, in all of these abnormalities, if he actually was a hobbit, and instead some incredibly small man. He had hobbit parents, however, and several hobbit nurses had witnessed and confirmed his birth. According to them, he was a natural, normal hobbit, despite the hair. Not one even mentioned his feet, or why he should wear shoes upon them. His parents, who often vacationed to many parts of the Shire, constantly moving around and leaving Jules behind, were no help in the questioning, never giving a strait answer about their son. They only mentioned once or twice that his hair was because of some strange pipe-weed, but nothing more. 

Jules himself was a quiet fellow, laid-back, never worrying about this or that. He enjoyed singing just as much as other hobbits, despite his inability to do so in key, and he would often be seen, singing his half-hearted tunes as he gazed skyward, or drew in the sandy dirt. Farming never appealed to Jules, another oddity compared with other hobbits, but neither did adventuring. He was no Bilbo, surely, but no Farmer Maggot either. He lived off what meager money he got, selling what lost treasures he occasionally found in fields or got on birthdays. He had no need for any gifts, in his simpler than normal lifestyle. He was a dreamer, through and through, but even more, he was a romantic. What red hearts one could swear they saw circling his head when he was out, thinking alone. He loved to write of romance, of some strange man finding some woman who was perfect only to him.

Jules had few friends, mostly younger hobbits, whose innocense and playfulness he enjoyed to supervise and make sure none of them were hurt. He was a quiet older brother in a sense, although as time bore on, less and less parents trusted him to be around their children. He was labeled a queer fellow, although the children failed to see why. What truth a child's eyes behold that a parent's eyes were blinded by non-sensical bias and half-truth. Jules did have one _other _friend, although he rarely called her that. He normally called her _Miluiel_.

* * *

Jules clambered around Tower Hills, searching for his secret place. The grassy hills were soft and delicate, making wonderful for run and play. The rolling landscape passed on for miles, but within that stretch was one valley, one patch of grass softer than the rest. Perhaps softened by nature, perhaps softened by love, it was our hobbit friend's destination. He knew it by the sweeter smelling flowers that sprung up and around, and by the tiny red flag he had stuck in the ground there to remind him and his nose. The flag was found easily enough, and Jules collapsed next to it, awaiting his company. 

Puffy, flowing clouds drifted by, and Jules couldn't help but find his voice singing:

_I cannot find my heart today,  
No doubt a girl has stol'n away  
My love, what makes me true complete,  
For sure it will be soon_ _we meet.  
But she can keep my heart for all,  
No matter short, no matter tall,  
No matter size or shape for she  
is all my love, for she loves me._

He stayed silent for a moment, thinking. His mind had drifted past his words, to what he meant but could no longer say. He thought, he closed his eyes, and he felt. He felt warmth, he felt real warmth, he felt warmth against his skin. His eyes snapped open and he saw a blonde elf-girl bending over him, allowing her warm ankles touch his shoulders. Her hair fell, floating and sparkling above him, drifting back and forth in the breeze. Her shining eyes met his, and her lips drew into a playful smile. She dropped to her knees suddenly, making Jules flinch at the though of her falling on him, but she did it just to hear him squeal so she could calm him with a warm kiss on the forehead. He pursed his lips, staring up at her, thinking of what torture he could inflict upon her for flaring up his fear, but he could only think to laugh it off.

"Miluiel, you playful sneak, you scared me half to death," Jules ended his chuckle.

"Oh, I couldn't help it Jules, you looked so cute and innocent there, staring at the sky and singing." Her eyes closed and her smile widened. Jules's cheeks burned red as he made an attempt to cover his shame.

"You heard?" He sheepishly whispered between his hands. Miluiel only laughed in response, trying to get the hobbit to lighten up.

"It's really no big deal, your voice may be clumsy, but the words were beautiful. Where did you get such a song?"

"Oh, I wrote it. It was...about me and you..."

Miluiel was stuck for words for just a moment. She couldn't help but feel overwhelmed at having an honest song written about her. "You...you...you..." She stammered, and Jules silently cowered, fearing her being angry for some strange reason. "You lovely halfling! You're too much!" Her cheeks blurted blush, and she threw her arms around him dragging them both to the ground.

"Careful Milly! You'll surely squish me!"

"Oh, so you're calling me Milly now? Maybe I should really squish you!"

"No! No! Please don't!"

"I think I will!" Miluiel joked, pushing Jules down and covering his body with hers.

"Nooo!" Jules play-cried, rolling out of the way. He stood up, and she did as well, proving his height compared to hers only made him come up to just below her waist. Their eyes still touched, despite the length between them.

"So, how has the shire been?" She said after the romantic silence had passed.

"How else?" Jules shrugged, "Quiet, calm, nice."

"I still say it sounds boring sometimes."

"Anyplace can become boring, it's what you do in your time, in that place, that makes all the difference."

"You're the wisest little hobbit I know, you know that?" She smiled.

"Mm..." He nodded. "I'm one of the only hobbits you know, Milly."

She laughed it off, and ran one hand through her golden hair. "Well, I might even say you're wiser than some of the elves I know."

"Perhaps..." He smiled a small smile, hoping she was being honest. The wind blew again, ruffling his bangs in front of his eyes. "What a wonderful day, nice and windy."

"Quite, although I do feel a bit cold..." Miluiel said, slowly making her way to sit on the ground.

"Oh? Well, I'll just have to see about that." And with that, he worked his way around her, and threw his small arms around her neck, trying to use his warmth to heat her. He struggled to cover her with himself best he could, although he was not quite big enough to do it. One would say it looked like he was trying to scale her like a hill.

"You know, this might work better if you were over here," She spoke, pulling him around and sitting him between her outstretched legs. She wrapped her arms around him, and brought her chin atop his head. "Much better."

"Are you warm?" He meekly asked, not feeling as if he was doing much.

"Warm and then some, Jules. You really can fit a lot of heat in that little body of yours, can't you?"

"Well..."

The two stayed like that for quite some time, a strange scene to anyone who would pass by, but no one passed by. Soon, they found themselves laying in the grass, her arms still around him, and his body tucked in hers. The sun sat above the western horizon, not yet letting the sky give up it's blueish hue just yet. Sunset was sure to be soon, but no one would be to say when.

"Please sing a little more Jules, for me?" Miluiel pleaded.

"I..." He stuttered, thinking about how terrible his voice was, but he decided if she truly wanted to hear it, she would. "Sure, Milly, for you."

_In all my days, I cannot say,  
I've ever had a lovely day,  
Like those, my sweet, I spend with you,  
Like those, my sweet, I give to you,  
With time a-racing on my side,  
And glowing romance born inside,  
I could give up my world away,  
Give up it all to hear you say,  
those magic words I hear, I do,  
for you to say "O I love you."_

Jules stopped, and gazed at the sun, which had taken its paint to the sky around it. The setting sun turned the world around it gold and the drifting clouds silver. It had pulled in wondrous blanket of dancing light over the horizon, and had ceased to bore with its beauty, forever as long as it had done so. "Would you look at that sky, Milly? It's as if heavens above heard my song." He turned to his partner, to hear her response, but at his song, she had already drifted to sleep.


End file.
